


dying is easy

by wizardcleric



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt, Gen, Questionable Use of Punctuation, What I'm saying is that this is just me word-vomitting at 3am, c2ep124, pseudo-philosophical bs, talks of death and suicide, thoughts and feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:41:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29803758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wizardcleric/pseuds/wizardcleric
Summary: He shuts the door behind them and now is alone with his thoughts.
Kudos: 25





	dying is easy

**Author's Note:**

> Oh Essek, we're really in it now

Their departure invites the perpetual winter chill of Eiselcross’ vast tundra into his bones. It seeps into his flesh and settles in his heart.

After all the Nein (his friends, he has to remind himself) told him, those odds so distractingly stacked against them, Essek Thelyss feels as if he was suspended in the air. Feet dangling, yet so unlike his usual drifting spells. It is not control; it is the opposite.

The feeling invokes imagery of a dingy prison cell in Rosohna, Caleb injured, and a body crushed by Essek’s own magic. This must be what it feels like to be crushed, yet the pain does not cease for him, the life does not leave him. He does not deserve for it to leave him.

It is tempting, the easy way out. To leave it all behind, to move on to the beyond, whatever that would entail. Yet he is bound to his life not by shame or cowardice, but by love and care. To assist the Nein was the least he could do, and if he died while doing so? Then at least his death would’ve meant something, he tells himself.

Turning things around. Changing the way things are. Things the way Essek loathes.

Easier said than done. Nothing is easy, nor is it ever particularly safe. Or at least he refuses to do things the easy way. Essek has always longed for change, was prepared for the consequences, to reap what his hard work sowed. Or, well, at least he had believed he was.

But now the consequences are staring right in his face that is distorted with paranoia and jumbled emotion, while he stands in motionless stupor in his chambers.

 _Breathe._ Caleb had said. Shaky, as if taking his first ever breath, Essek inhales. Waits. Exhales. Repeats.

The dizziness fades, ever so slightly - gives room to breathe in even deeper.

His mind is not any clearer. Thoughts racing ever on in a seemingly eternal loop.

 _Breathe_. He reminds himself, conjures up images in his mind of things to focus on. Faces he had seen mere moments before, pushing away those that hunt him, the shame that aches and burns holes in his skin.

Jester’s bright face as she rushed forward with open arms, encasing him in comfort and relief. The warm taste of Caduceus’ hot chocolate along with the sight of the firbolg’s equally warm expression. The familiar faces of those he cared about more than anyone else in this world, and the face of one whose gaze he dared not meet.

Shame bubbles in his chest, beckons him to remove himself from his situation, to crawl under the covers and never leave. The shame weighs him down, makes every movement feel heavier, as if gravity tightens its vengeful hold on him with every step, every thought even, he dares to take.

He cannot succumb to it, not when there are 7 people out there who are counting on his assistance, however insignificant his contribution may end up being.

Essek reminds himself again. Of how good he was at pushing away any and all feelings impeding on his own success, a skill that made him fall in his own mother’s special favor, a position hard to earn even for her own flesh and blood. To soar beyond, to be the brightest star on the night sky to be admired. Of course, the admiration has always been an unwanted phenomenon with even more unwanted side-effects.

Being a bright star is lonely, though for the longest time Essek really paid no mind to that. Or at least he had always tried not to. The reality of his own weakness would turn out to be his own undoing, effectively putting him in this space, his chambers near Aeor with iron weighing down his heart, battered and bruised from his own reckless abandon and self-destructive, self-punishing tendencies.

Sometimes he wishes he never would have opened his heart to those 7 souls, yet what would have been the alternative? A lonely death? A death that never meant anything at all? Maybe the line between a lonely death and a meaningless one is more blurred than Essek would have thought to consider before.

Either way, this is his reality now.

Essek closes his eyes.

 _Breathe_. He tells himself. Again and again.

He focuses on his body, the sensation of the air entering and leaving it. Focuses on his feet firmly grounded. Inhale. Exhale.

With a sigh, Essek turns to his small desk area.

He has a letter to write, a message to send - to the only member of Den Thelyss he remotely trusts.

Essek would be alright, somehow, in the end.


End file.
